


CR∑∑K

by Agrius



Category: South Park
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Boys Kissing, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Closeted Character, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay, Intimacy, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Male Slash, Oral Sex, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Rough Kissing, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2018-11-05 14:05:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11014926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agrius/pseuds/Agrius
Summary: Craig has a stalker.In a well-meaning attempt to get Tweek off his back, Craig pushes the jittery blonde into a secluded broom closet to work out their differences.Unfortunately for Craig, things do NOT go as planned.Rated 'M' for future boy/boy encounters of the lewd and lascivious variety.  Please read/review!





	1. Chapter 1

 

“Oh my GOD… will you just _do it already?”_

 

Tweek, wedged as far back in broom closet as he could go, stared up at Craig in shock.

 

“Gaah!” He twitched and jerked. “W-wh… what?!”

 

The taller boy leered down at him, eyes narrowed to angry slits. “You tell me. You’ve been eye-raping me all goddamn week. I catch you looking at me in every class we have together. So what the hell do you want?”

 

Tweek shuddered, the corner of one eye spasming. Being this close to Craig, pressed against the back wall of a musty janitor’s closet was overloading his senses. Craig’s breath heated his forehead. His heart thumped way harder than usual. “I… I…,” Twitch, twitch, spasm. “We just haven’t really talked since the… um… that thing with the Japanese girls. And the, um…” He tried in vain to wet his lips. “… the yaoi.”

 

One of Craig’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah. And?”

 

“And… well…” Tweek fumbled for something pertinent to say. “H-how are you?”

 

Craig’s eyebrow arched even harder. “How am I? Really? That’s the best you got?”

 

Tweek went to swallow but his throat was like sandpaper. “I don’t really know what you want me to say.”

 

“I want you to tell me why you’ve been following me. Because I’ve seen you take the extra long way to some of your classes. And I know damn well it’s so that you can see me in the hallway.”

 

Tweek shuddered as Craig leaned in to examine his flushed face, inadvertently backing himself onto a plunger handle that proceeded to jab him painfully in the hip. He trembled as Craig reached out an arm, palming the wall next to him.

 

“Look, dude.” Craig sighed after a while. “I think I get it.”

 

Tweek blinked in rapid succession. “Y-you do?”

 

“Yeah. I mean, look. I ain’t no homo.” He reached up to scratch beneath his blue cap. “But I ain’t no ‘phobe either. I know we gotta keep pretending to be a couple for the sake of the town. Which is probably gonna suck balls since you’re apparently… well… _that way_.”

 

Tweek felt his cheeks flush.

 

“So… tell you what.” Craig rolled his eyes, glancing away. “In the interest of us getting though this bullshit… and getting you to stop humping me with your eyes… I’m gonna do you a favor.”

 

The blonde felt lightheaded and dizzy. “A favor?”

 

“Yeah. I’m gonna give you ten seconds, starting from when I say. During those ten seconds, you’re allowed to do whatever you want. When I say time, you’ll stop and we’ll never speak of this again for as long as we both shall live.”

 

Tweek’s eyes went the size of drink coasters. “Y-you’re serious??”

 

Craig stared down at him, his expression deadpan. “Yes. I am serious. Do you accept these terms and conditions as I have explained them to you?”

 

Tweek waited for his heart attack to subside before timidly squeaking, _“Yes!”_

 

Craig sighed, bringing his wrist up to eye level and fidgeting with the buttons and dials, pulling up the stopwatch feature. “Alright… in three… two…”

 

“WAIT!!” Tweek shrieked.

 

“Gaah! What?!” Craig hissed. “Keep your fucking voice down! It’s not like we want people to know we’re in here, asshat!”

 

Tweek fidgeted in place, fumbling with the badly crumpled hem of his shirt. “C-can I do some prep work first? To, uuh… make the most of my time?”

 

Both of Craig’s eyebrows raised to form a peak. “Clothes will be staying on for the duration of this exercise. You filthy, filthy animal.”

 

“N-no! Not that!” Tweek blushed still redder. “Just, um… hang on.”

 

Turning, Tweek hastily cleared a space among all the brooms and cleaning supplies, finally dislodging the plunger handle from his now-bruised hip. He rested his back firmly in the crux of the wall, then reached out a trembling hand, gripping Craig’s shirt and tugging the startled boy in close. “Hey!”

 

“Sorry.” Tweek chewed his bottom lip. “I just… y’know… want to make it count.”

 

Craig shook his head as he wriggled his wrist up between them to fiddle with his watch.

 

“Okay… three, two, one, st–”

 

No sooner had Craig’s fingers pressed the button on his watch, his words were cut off by a hand jerking him down, an anxious pair of lips diving on his. The smaller boy’s other hand reached up to grip the back of his head, fingers snaking beneath his cap, combing through his hair.

 

 _JESUS TITTYFUCKING CHRIST!_ screamed Craig’s brain as Tweek kneaded their lips together, moaning softly. Craig had tried to mentally prepare for the possibility of Tweek kissing him… but he sure as fuck wasn’t expecting _this_. The way Tweek pushed himself up against him, his shaky fingers wandering over Craig’s chest startled the older boy. He had assumed Tweek probably had the hots for him… but this? This was some next-level shit right here.

 

Craig kissed him back, more out of reflex than anything. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that he was kissing a girl. A flat-chested, trembling, black coffee-tasting girl. His face tilted, his lips parted, and suddenly Tweek’s tongue was in his mouth.

 

“Mmmf!” Craig’s eyes opened wide in shock, only to open wider as he felt Tweek’s hand sneak beneath his shirt, stroking along his bare stomach, sending an unwanted shiver streaking up his spine.

 

Looking down at him, Craig noticed that Tweek had long, thick eyelashes. He’d never noticed them before. He wished he wasn’t noticing them now.

 

Reflexively, Craig’s hands found the younger boy’s hips, pulling him up against him. He tried not to think about their bulges touching. He was already gonna have to say so many no homos for this massive amount of faggotry. Why add more by thinking about it?

 

Suddenly, his watch began to chirp.

 

 _Time’s up_ , Craig thought with relief. Then he felt Tweek’s warm hand sliding along his wrist. The boy found Craig’s watch and cupped his hand over it, silencing its rhythmic beeping as he gripped the back of Craig’s neck, holding him still.

 

“ _Fgggmmm!”_

 

Their lips continued to knead together. Craig pinned Tweek roughly against the wall, unsure of whether he was trying to free himself from Tweek's grasp or prove a point to him. Their tongues vied for dominance in the common space they shared as seconds ticked away. Craig had no idea how far past the initial ten they’d gone. Without his watch’s beeping to remind him, it felt like time had left them behind.

 

Things might have gone on for much longer had Craig not felt _it_. _It_ of course being the new prominent bulge in Tweek’s pants, rubbing insistently against Craig's inner thigh.

 

With a mighty shove, Craig dislodged himself from the blonde, collapsing against the opposite wall. They panted heavily, eyeing one another like startled animals, their gazes wide and feral.

 

“DUDE!” Craig started after he’d caught his breath.

 

Across the way, Tweek continued to fight for air, limbs jack-knifed across the wall like a spider, the tent in his khakis now plainly visible. “S-sorry!”

 

“I said ten seconds!” Craig wailed.

 

“Sorry! I’m sorry! I just… got a little carried away!”

 

Craig quickly climbed to his feet, dusting off his knees and adjusting his cap back down from its disheveled perch atop his head. “Whatever. Just… fuck!” He palmed his face, which was by that point beet red. “Alright. I met you halfway. Now give me some space at school. And don’t you ever… _ever_ … tell anyone we did this, or I swear to Christ I’ll cut your balls off and mail them to your mother. _Got it?”_

 

Slumped against the opposing wall, Tweek looked like he had just finished running a marathon. His face was flushed, his lips swollen and red.

 

“Y-yeah,” Tweek whispered after a while. “I promise.”

 

There was a twinkle in Tweek’s eyes. Craig didn’t like it.

 

“Whatever. Fuck you, I’m leaving. Wait five minutes before coming out.”

 

Refusing to make eye contact, Craig cracked the door open, peeked through, then slipped out. He walked swiftly away, tugging his shirt down over his lap as he mumbled no homos under his breath.


	2. Chapter 2

 

Curled in the fetal position on the floor of a dirty janitor’s closet, Tweek fought for breath in the stale, musty air. He clutched at his chest as his heart threw itself violently against his ribcage.

 

He couldn’t believe it.

 

They’d kissed. Him and Craig.  

 

Dear god… they actually  _kissed!_

 

His throat was dry. His skin felt like it was on fire. Purple flecks of light swam across his vision as he tried to make sense of what just happened.

 

It was the single most bizarre, terrifying and wonderful experience of Tweek’s young life. One minute he was walking down the hall, trying to think of a way to tell Craig how he felt about him. The next, Craig had appeared out of nowhere, grabbed him by the wrist and pulled Tweek into a janitor’s closet.

 

And then they kissed! On the lips!

 

For those magical ten or fifteen seconds, the rest of the world seemed to bleed away, leaving just the two of them. Together. The only thing that had mattered to Tweek right then was the boy pinning him up against the wall, stealing the breath from his lungs.

 

Tweek knew he would remember this day forever. No question. It would probably be the last memory old age would ever take from him, long after he’d forgotten his parents or how to speak. He would fondly remember kissing Craig Tucker in this dirty janitor's closet until the day he died.

 

But right then, it was all too much. As though by reflex, the blonde made swift work of yanking his belt loose, working the button and zipper on his khakis, roughly shoving his pants down around his ankles. It wasn’t even for pleasure. It was more like opening a valve to let off a buildup of steam.

 

Tweek cupped his hand over his mouth, hyperventilating through his fingers as he menaced himself with quick, aggressive strokes. The smell of Craig’s cheap drugstore shampoo still clung to his palm where he’d stroked beneath the boy’s poofball hat as they kissed. The scent was driving him crazy.

 

God how he wanted him. Tweek wanted Craig so fucking bad it hurt. It was like Craig had emptied an entire bottle of lighter fluid onto the flame Tweek had kept in his heart all these years.

 

Tweek’s breathing grew wet and ragged as he fantasized about Craig kissing him again.  He needed to feel Craig’s hands holding him. Bounding him up in his strong embrace as they each found bare skin on the other to touch.

 

_“Gfff!”_

 

It ended up being a pretty shitty orgasm. Tweek was far too overstimulated for it to be enjoyable and it only took maybe twenty strokes to get to. He just bit down on his finger as it came and went, thankful he’d remembered to draw the hem of his shirt up a bit beforehand. Because damned if it didn’t just go everywhere. The janitor’s closet floor was certainly a little dirtier.

 

Recovering his senses, Tweek panicked anew at the prospect of getting caught. Hastily he stood and tugged up his shorts, dusting himself off as best as he could. He pressed his ear to the door, listening for traffic in the hallway. Once he was reasonably sure the coast was clear, he twisted the knob and slipped out.

 

Amazingly, the hall was vacant. Stalking quickly away, Tweek palmed the sweat from his face. He was a little more physically relaxed now, but his mind was still racing a mile a minute. He had no idea how he was going to make it through the rest of the school day. He didn’t know how he was going to turn up at his parents’ coffee shop for work afterward, or how he was going to manage small talk around the dinner table after everything that just happened.

 

But there was one thing he did know.

 

He knew this would never be enough. Oh no. Pandora’s Box hadn’t so much been opened as kicked the fuck over and shattered into a million pieces.

 

Tweek knew he had to have more.


	3. Chapter 3

 

“I just don’t know what to do guys!”

 

Tweek groaned as he rested his head back on Kenny McCormick’s chest, which he’d been using as a body pillow for the better part of an afternoon.  

 

“Awww… our poor sweet little crackhead,” Kenny soothed, planting an obnoxiously loud kiss into the wild dandelion fluff that was Tweek’s hair.  “You’ve had a rough week.”

 

“He sure has,” chimed Butters as he painted Tweek’s toenails an eye-gouging shade of holographic Barbie apocalypse pink.

 

The boys were curled up together on Butters’ racecar bed.  The lights in Butters’ bedroom were dimmed to near porn store levels. Soothing scented candles had been lit and stationed at tasteful intervals around the room. A low, pleasing hipster song filled the air.  “New Slang” by The Shins.

 

“I ain’t ticklin’ ya am I?”

 

“No Butters.” Kenny had his legs spread apart to accommodate the boy and was busy toying with Tweek’s belly beneath his shirt as Butters worked. “Seriously guys… what should I  _do?_ I’m literally losing sleep over this.  Ever since we kissed, I’ve been a wreck.”

 

“More so than usual, you mean?”

 

Tweek craned his neck back and blew a puff of air up into Kenny’s nostrils.  The older boy chuckled, planting a quick kiss on Tweek’s forehead. “Sorry, sorry.  But seriously though… this means something dude. There isn’t a straight guy on this planet who would pull his best friend into a broom closet and offer him a sloppy wet makeout session just out of the kindness of his heart.”

 

“Not unless he secretly craves cock, o’course.”

 

“Butters!” Kenny chided.   _“Language.”_

 

“Sorry cupcake,” said the boy at Tweek’s feet, not bothering to glance up as he carefully painted Tweek’s big toe, working slowly so as to avoid the cuticle.

 

“He says he’s straight.” Tweek groaned, allowing his head to loll against Kenny’s throat.  

 

“Dude… at this point, I think it’s pretty safe to say that Craig’s about as straight as a spiral staircase leading up into Godzilla’s asshole.  Craig is so fucking deep in the closet he’s sitting on Christmas presents. Which are probably dildos. For him. Because he’s fucking  _gay.”_

 

“I don’t know, Ken.  It’s like…” Tweek gestured his arms into the open air.  “I thought my crush on him was bad before. But now… god, it’s all I can think about!”

 

“Was he a good kisser?” asked Butters, fanning Tweek’s foot with a paper fan he kept on him at all times for whenever he got hot or needed to be dramatic.

 

“He’s a  _very_ good kisser.”

 

“Was he big?”

 

“I… don’t know.  I don’t think he was hard.”

 

Kenny pondered, combing his fingers through an imaginary Pai Mei beard.  “He’s got big hands. When we’re in gym class together, he  _palms_ that fucking basketball.  God I bet his cock looks like an enchanted totem pole perched at the end of a mysterious forest.”

 

_“Kenny!”_

 

“Oooh!  Speaking of the boys’ locker room, guess who’s a beast?  Fucking Token Black. That thing looks like a Sith lightsaber.  Just… dark and heavy. And  _intimidating.”_

 

“You’d still try though,” Butters muttered, removing the cotton balls from between Tweek’s toes.

 

“Damn right I would!  Bragging rights baby!”

 

By this point, Tweek had covered his face with his hands.  “Guys,” he sighed.

 

“Sorry beautiful.  Look… you just need to wait it out.  I promise that wasn’t the last swing you’ll ever get at Craig Tucker.  I’m willing to bet Butters’ life on it.”

 

“Gff… fine.” Tweek heaved, staring up at the ceiling, looking defeated.  “But what am I supposed to do while I wait, huh? I can’t sleep. I can’t concentrate in school. And my parents are starting to wonder why I’ve been washing my body pillow so much.”

 

Had Tweek not been glancing down at just that moment, he might have missed the laden glance Butters shot to his boyfriend.  He thought he had imagined it… until he felt Kenny’s long, strong arms tightening affectionately around him.

 

“Well… Tweek… that’s actually something we’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

 

Twisting around, Tweek craned his neck to look up into Kenny’s steely blue eyes.  And that’s when it finally occurred to him that there was mischief afoot. The look in Kenny’s smiling gaze spoke volumes.

 

“Butters and me have been talking it over, and… well, it just breaks our heart to see our favorite little cuddle buddy in such a pitiful state.”

 

“It really does!” chirped Butters earnestly.

 

“Pretty soon your grades are gonna suffer.  And your parents’ water bill is gonna keep going up.”

 

“Water is expensive!”

 

“It sure is Buttercup.  As your homo homies, we can’t allow you to continue on in such a ragged state.  So… we were wondering… if… you would maybe be interested in letting us help you out.”

 

Tweek’s eyes were round with surprise.  “Oh… my… god!”

 

“Now now…” Kenny pressed a finger to his lips, shushing him.  “Just hear me out. You’re super pent up, right?”

 

“Kenny--”

 

“AND… Butters and I are in a committed polyamorous relationship, as you may recall from both of us never shutting the fuck up about it.”  Here, Kenny’s voice turned official. “Acts of snoo-snoo between consenting friends is not only mutually beneficial to all parties involved, it can also act as a sort of team-building exercise and boost camaraderie.”

 

“And it’s really, really fun!”

 

“That too.”

 

Tweek’s cheeks were burning.  “Guys… that’s… really sweet. I guess.  But… oh my  _god!_  You two are like my  _brothers!”_ His throat felt bone dry.  “I just… I can’t imagine us doing that.”

 

“Woah!  Slow down there.  No one ever said we had to go all the way.  What sort of sluts do you take us for? All we’re offering is a chance for you to let out some of that pent up horniness in a safe and non-judgemental environment.  We would only go as far as you felt comfortable. Heck, you could even close your eyes and picture Mr. Totem Pole if ya really wanted to. Whatever helps.”

 

Tweek’s eyebrows rose to form a peak. All this time, he’d always just used his pillow.  He wondered what it would be like if he had an actual body… or two… to project his fantasies on.

 

Though Tweek hated to admit it, Kenny was sort of attractive.  He had gorgeous steely blue eyes, sunkissed skin and a short crop of shaggy wheat-colored hair that Tweek had always secretly wanted to run his fingers through.  

 

Butters wasn’t too bad either.  Granted, he wasn’t necessarily Tweek’s type.  But there was certainly a lot in the boy’s babyish face and feminine hips that Tweek could, under the right conditions, grow quite fond of.

 

Tweek’s stomach turned over as he realized he was actually considering it.

 

Studying the consternation in the boy’s face, Kenny’s eyes lit up.  He squeezed Tweek from behind, leaning in to gently nuzzle his lips behind his ear, delighting to feel Tweek shudder.  “It’s fine if you don’t wanna. Like I said, we’re not here to judge. But… just so you know… Butters and I have been wanting to ask you for a while now.  You’re, uuh… you’re kind of our favorite.”

 

It was as if the gravity had been turned up.  The room was warm and dim, the bodies surrounding him were firm and inviting, and Amos Lee’s rendition of “Arms of a Woman” had just started up on Butters’ iPod dock.  Tweek suddenly felt heavy and limp in Kenny’s arms.

 

Did he dare?

 

It was either try this or weather who knows how many weeks without sleep.  Tweek chewed his bottom lip. “...maybe…”

 

Grinning, Kenny kissed the nape of Tweek’s neck.  “Maybe what?”

 

“M-maybe… if we… go slow.”

 

Tweek cringed as he heard the words leave his mouth.  God… what was  _wrong_ with him?!

 

With eyes screwed resolutely shut, Tweek bit his lip as calloused fingers began to roam his skin.  They slipped back underneath his shirt, working delicately over his belly paunch as a second pair walked gingerly along Tweek’s inner thigh, sending a tingle jolting up his spine.

 

_“Gfff!”_

 

“Shhh… just relax.” The buttons on Tweek’s shirt were being popped one by one.  His chest emerged naked and free into the warm room air as a weight settled against him on the bed.

 

 _Just imagine it’s Craig,_ Tweek chided himself.  _Just imagine it’s Craig…_

 

“If you wanna stop, just say the word and we’ll stop.”

 

Then calloused fingers were tilting his chin up and to the side. Kenny’s lips were suddenly pressed against his.

 

Tweek fought to stifle the shiver racing up his spine as their lips worked together.  He soon found himself melting into the boy’s kiss, allowing his mouth to be plied open and massaged.

 

All too late, Tweek remembered that he was kissing Kenny while Kenny’s boyfriend was in the room watching them.  His eyes shot open wide. Sure enough, Butters was watching them go at it, chewing his bottom lip, a look of naked excitement in his bright blue eyes.  

 

“Jus’ ignore me,” Butters purred as he took up residence between Tweek’s legs.

 

Tweek watched on in amazement as Butters brought his face in close, nuzzling his forehead against Tweek’s bare chest.  A kittenish pink tongue emerged from the boy’s mouth, tracing around the circumference of one of Tweek’s nipples. Had Kenny not been holding him, Tweek might’ve shuddered himself right off the bed.  Butters’ small, manicured hands gently massaged his thighs as he took the little pink nub of flesh into his mouth, suckling gently as he looked up at Tweek with large, innocent eyes.

 

 _This is insane,_ screamed Tweek’s brain as he was worked upon by two pairs of lips.  His chest heaved into Butters’ kisses as Kenny slipped his tongue into his mouth.  Dear god… it felt like he was melting! It took every ounce of his energy just to lift one leaden arm to grip the scruff of Kenny’s neckpulling him down against him.

 

Just as Tweek was starting to get into it, Kenny broke their kiss.  “Sorry,” he grinned, stroking his fingers along Tweek’s arms, gently easing his shirt the rest of the way down the boy’s slender arms. “That was bugging me.  And while we’re at it…” Swatting Tweek out of his lap for a moment, Kenny crossed his arms over his abdomen to peel off his muscle shirt, adding it to the growing pile of discarded clothes.

 

“You okay?”  

 

Tweek had tufts of his own hair gathered up in his fingers and was hyperventilating in time to the chords of Justin Rutledge’s “Kapuskasing Coffee”.

 

“I just… I can’t believe we’re doing this!”

 

Butters perked up with concern.  “Do you wanna stop?”

 

“N-no!  Just…  _fuck!_ How are we gonna hang out after we’ve done all this?  It’s gonna be so weird!”

 

Gently disentangling the boy’s fingers from his unruly mane, Butters held Tweek’s hand aloft, planting an affectionate kiss into his palm.  “It won’t get weird. Pinkie promise. Me and Kenny do this sort of stuff all the time.”

 

“Yeah dude.  We’re just three bros hanging out.  But instead of having fun playing video games, we’re having fun with eachother.  Nothing intrinsically weird about that, is there?”

 

Tweek sighed.  “N-no.”

 

“Do you wanna keep going?”

 

“...yes.”

 

* * *

 

 

Fingers clawing at the bedsheets.  Squirming. Whimpering.

 

Tweek was sandwiched between two boys on an impossibly narrow bed.  Both had their hands on him. Both had their lips on his.

 

If you’ve never been at the center of a three-way makeout session, it’s every bit as intense as it is disorienting. Just as Tweek would grow comfortable with kissing one, the other would wrench him free and take his place.

 

It wasn’t helping his blood pressure that Kenny was massaging his chest as they made out, or that Butters had his hand down his pants.

 

 _Fuck!_ His brain screamed over and over.    _Fuck fuck fucking FUCK!_

 

Tweek couldn’t even pretend it was Craig kissing him.  Kenny was far too domineering and Butters smelled too much like sugary perfume for the fantasy to take hold in his feverish mind.  

 

Not that these were bad things, mind you.  As of just a few days ago, Tweek had discovered that he actually liked taking a more submissive role.  And Butters was so soft and warm it was like getting frisky with a microwaved Peep.

 

God, their hands just went  _everywhere!_ Without even looking, Tweek knew that his sensitive skin was red and blotchy from all the touching.  Kenny was massaging one of Tweek’s tender nipples as Tweek and Butters were going at it like teens in the back of a father’s borrowed station wagon in the 50’s.  Tweek whimpered into the boy’s soft kiss as sweat beaded up on his forehead.

 

How long had they been doing this?  Thirty minutes? An hour? Maybe more?  The concept of time had completely passed them by.

 

Tweek gripped the back of Kenny’s head with one hand and palmed the gentle curve of Butters’ ass with the other.  He could feel the boys’ heartbeats as they rested against his own. He let out a squeak against Kenny’s lips as Butters cradled his balls through his underwear.  

 

Oh, there was no way he was getting out of this bedroom with his dignity intact.  After such a protracted teasing marathon, Tweek was one well-timed kiss, touch or fondle away from plastering the front of his underwear.  He was practically rutting into Butters’ hand.

 

“You, uuh… seem like you’re getting close,” said Kenny, having apparently noticed.

 

Tweek gurgled incoherently as Kenny peppered his temple with kisses.  “We could help ya out with that. I know Butters has wanted swallow your cock for a while now.  And truth be told, I kinda wanna watch him do it.”

 

All of Tweek’s senses were heightened to a frightening degree.  The warm bedroom air hitting his skin was driving him wild.

 

They had gone way, WAY too far.

 

“I don’t…  _ggf!”_ Butters still had a little hammy mitt curled around Tweek’s balls and was squeezing them gently through his underwear.  “I… kinda… want my first time to be with Craig. If it ever comes to that.”

 

He could see the disappointment registering in their eyes.  But ever the professional, Kenny was the first to recover. “No problem kitten.  Just tell us what you want.”

 

 _Fuck it._ He was already well past the point of no return.  Unable to put his jumble of thoughts into coherent words, Tweek simply grabbed Butters’ wrist and tugged him up against him.  

 

“Hey!”

 

Wasting no time, Tweek dove on the boy’s sweet lips, probing his tongue into the boy’s eager mouth.  Rooting around beside him, Tweek found the scruff of Kenny’s neck and brought him down too, having to wrench himself free of Butters’ lips to kiss his boyfriend.

 

“Roll over,” Kenny growled in his ear.  

 

Blinking, Tweek did as he was told, and with the guidance of Kenny’s hands was rolled over on top of Butters, who greeted him with open arms.  Nestled evenly between the boy’s legs, Tweek let out a startled gasp as he felt Kenny ease himself down over his back. He was being sandwiched again, pinned between two warm, churning bodies smelling of sugar and pepper and sweat.

 

The kissing.  Oh god - the  _kissing!_ It was way too much stimulation for one fidgety adolescent boy to handle.  Butters had Tweek’s face gripped between his manicured hands and was kissing him softly.  When Tweek needed to come up for breath, Kenny took his place. Tweek watched in awe as the two boys made out with surprising verve.  Seeing Kenny tug on Butters’ bottom lip with his teeth was stirring something primal deep within him.

 

Pinning Tweek down against his boyfriend, Kenny began to grind himself against the twitchy blonde’s upturned rear.  Even through four layers of clothing, Tweek could tell that Kenny was hard as a drywall screw and just as eager to penetrate something.  Each successive grind down the furrow between his cheeks sent lightning through him and made Tweek’s toes grip the crumpled bed sheets between Butters’ spread legs.  His eyes went out of focus as Butters returned his little kittenish tongue to his mouth, kneading their lips together with surprising finesse.

 

God, it was right around the corner now - ready at any moment to jump out and catch him by surprise.  Butters was coiled around him, kissing him with wild abandon as Kenny hotdogged the tent in his pants between his cheeks.  Tweek could feel it starting to stir deep inside him - the start of the wave.

 

“Guys,” Tweek whimpered.  “Guys! I… I think I’m gonna…”

 

In a flash, Butters reached down and tugged up their shirts.  Tweek felt a finger in the waistline of his pants, hiking them down along the front.  Which proved to be perfect timing.

 

“Oh… fuck…  _uggh!”_

 

Tweek had hoped that it wasn’t going to be one of his super gushy orgasms that went everywhere.  But of course it was. After all this, how could it not be?

 

The shame had already begun to set in before Tweek finished painting Butters’ belly and chest with cum.  Kenny was nibbling the scruff of his neck from behind, growling encouragements into his ear as Tweek’s limbs locked out like some kind of nightmarish table.  Meanwhile, the fifth bar of Elliott Smith’s “Everything’s Okay” was purring out though the speakers with an irony so thick and rich you could bottle it and sell it as pancake syrup.


	4. Chapter 4

 

_Thump… thump… thump… thump… thump…_

 

Over and over the red stress ball flew, colliding with the ceiling and returning to Craig’s outstretched hand. _Thump… thump… thump…_ Mindlessly, as though by reflex.

 

It was 5pm on a Friday and Craig Tucker was bored shitless.

 

Usually around 5pm on a Friday, Craig would be over at a friend’s house playing video games, or trying to convince a hobo to buy him a beer from the local Sip ‘N Strut, or seeing how much merchandise he could shoplift from Walmart. But instead he was up in his room, staring at water stains on a popcorn ceiling. Like a loser.

 

None of the usual Craig’s Gang members were free. Token’s parents were making him attend a cram school for some goddamn reason. Clyde was caught up trying to round the bases with some skank. Jimmy had been out of class all week with sinusitis. And that was all the friends Craig had.

 

_Thump… thump… thump…_

 

Well… all the ones that he’d care to hang out with.

 

_Thump… thump… thump…_

 

Craig sighed. He knew _he_ wouldn’t be busy.

 

_THUMP!_

 

Craig accidentally threw the ball too hard. It sprang back from the ceiling at an angle, landing over near his dirty laundry hamper. He flipped the ball off, too lazy to get up and retrieve it.

 

Two weeks had passed since the broom closet incident. And while Tweek had honored their agreement to give him some much-needed space, they’d also not spoken at all. Which, given his present situation, fucking blew.

 

Craig sighed. Was he really that desperate?

 

He stared up at the ceiling for another minute before deciding that, yes, he was that goddamn bored. He fished his little shit-ass Walmart family plan flip phone out of his pocket, clicking through his contacts until he found ‘Crackhead’ and pressed the call button.

 

The first ring hadn’t even finished before someone answered.

 

“GAAH!!” came Tweek’s usual greeting.

 

“Hey dude,” Craig pinched the space between his eyes. “What’s up? You busy?”

 

“N-no…” the boy stammered. “I just got back from my parents’ coffee shop.”

 

“Dope. You wanna come over?”

 

The line went silent for a beat. Craig thought he could just make out the sound of Tweek fidgeting.

 

“Uh… s-sure. But… c-could you come over to my place instead? My parents won’t be home until late and I got a new video game we could play. If you wanted to, that is.”

 

Craig sighed theatrically for Tweek’s benefit. “Great. Now I gotta put on pants. Alright, sure. Be right over.”

 

Craig quickly hung up the phone, blissfully unaware that he’d made Tweek blush.

 

* * *

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey.”

 

The door opened a bit, allowing Craig inside. All at once he was consumed by cool room air and the pleasing aromas of French roast coffee and upper middle-class luxury.

 

Slipping his shoes off (Tweek’s family did the Japanese thing) Craig padded down the darkened hallway after the boy, taking note that Tweek had clearly jumped in the shower right after their phone call. Though Craig hated to admit it, Tweek smelled good.

 

The floorplan opened on a cozy living room populated with nice furniture from the sort of catalogs Craig’s mother subscribed to but never actually bought stuff from. There were high walls done up in a soothing shade of sage green, nice Lumber Liquidator floors, and a coffee table that was expected to house coffee mugs and not feet. Tweek’s family wasn’t rich. But they sure as shit weren’t struggling either.

 

“C-can I get you something to drink?”  Tweek still hadn't dared to look him in the eye.

 

“I’ll get it,” Craig said quickly, bypassing the awkward formalities as he made a bee-line for the adjacent kitchen.

 

His socked feet chilling on a real tile floor, Craig fished a tumbler out of the cabinet, pressing it into the freezer door for ice. That’s how you know you’re doing well for yourself: you have a refrigerator that gives you ice instead of making you open it, take out a little plastic tray and crack a few into your cup yourself.

 

“What do you want?” he called into the living room, pulling out Tweek’s mom’s pitcher of tea and pouring himself some.

 

“J-just water! Please! Thank you!” About a year or so ago, Tweek had started to cut back on the caffeine. Which was good. Nowadays he was less paranoid, slightly less twitchy, and even managed to blink regularly.

 

Craig returned with two tumblers in hand, handing the one filled with water off. “What we playing?”

 

“I got Goregasm XIV: Return to Prolapse Island. Hope that’s okay.”

 

“Tits.”

 

As Tweek fiddled with his Okama Gamesphere® II controller, cycling though the co-op options, Craig studied him out of the corner of his eye.

 

At 14 years old, Tweek dressed like a 40-year-old lesbian from Seattle.

 

On this day in particular he had on a green plaid LL Bean button-up (with all of the buttons done right for once), a pair of starchy-looking chinos and gray striped wool socks. Craig knew a pair of suede chukkas awaited Tweek in the shoe caddie out in the hallway. The leather belt banding the boy’s narrow waist probably cost more than Craig’s dental fillings.

 

They launched a co-op campaign and were swiftly set upon by the unclean legions of hell. Paired with only their wits and high-powered chainsaws, the boys haphazardly pressed a charred hellscape filled with nightmares. Healing when needed. Teabagging where necessary.

 

Tweek was a boss at video games. Always had been. Craig suspected it had something to do with his constant fidgeting. The boy’s fingers jittered across the colored buttons faster than a meth mule’s heart on a red eye flight when all the condoms burst in his stomach at once.

 

“FUCK!!!” Tweek squealed after they’d both been ritualistically disemboweled, holding his controller high overhead as though he were about to slam it through the floor. _“Fucking dick tits cunt motherFUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!”_

 

Craig chuckled at the outburst. “Chill dude. It happens.”

 

“ _That was such fucking bullshit though!”_

 

“I know, I know. I was there.”

 

“GAAAH!!” Tweek set the controller down, slamming his head back into the plush couch pillow, hyperventilating through his teeth.

 

Craig smirked. He had to admit, playing video games with Tweek was fun. Because the blonde was so hyper, he tended to get super wound up in whatever game they played. Craig only ever heard Tweek curse when they were in the midst of a shooter and his parents weren’t around.

 

“Wanna take a break? Maybe replay the last level? I think we missed a loot cache that could help us out.”

 

Tweek removed his palms from his face, his eyes bleary and red. “Sure. I guess.”

 

Craig fumbled with the counterintuitive menu system, cycling through the spinning windows until he found the last level they’d completed without getting dismembered. He clicked it, then set back as the game worked to load itself.

 

“So are you like 100-percent gay or just bi-curious?”

 

Craig’s eyes widened. He glanced around the darkened living room for the voice’s origin, only to realize with sudden horror that he was the one who’d said it.

 

_T_ _he fuck?!_ Craig was genuinely in shock. Why the fuck had he said that? The words just came spewing out of his mouth like verbal diarrhea.

 

Across the expanse of couch, Tweek looked just as shocked as he was. His bright green eyes were dilated, his eyebrows arched as high as they could go.

 

“…um…”

 

“Oh jeez… dude, sorry! I have no idea where that came from!”

 

“No no! It’s… it’s okay.” Tweek’s knuckles worked against his kneecaps. He glanced off, a streak of red rising across his cheeks. “I’m… I’m gay.”

 

“I know but like are you totally completely gay or just a little gay like a bisexual or someone from France?” _Why the fuck was he still talking?!_

 

Tweek chewed his bottom lip. “I’m… gay. I like boys.”

 

“Have you always liked boys?”

 

“N-no.”

 

“Then how do you know you’re totally gay?”

 

“B-because I have a crush on one. And… because of him… I don’t really think about girls anymore.”

 

Craig nodded solemnly, as though he’d just had some imperceptibly sage wisdom laid on him.

 

“Cool, cool. Hey look, the game’s finished loading! Let’s jump right in!”

 

Craig started the game without giving Tweek time to pick up his controller. He focused intently on the monster killing, patiently ignoring the eyes that would occasionally wander over his way.

 

Several minutes in, Craig was _slaying_. Waves of enemies fell before him like a great red tide. Tweek, on the other hand, was getting his shit pushed in.

 

“Dude, heal, heal, HEAL! You’re about to – _ffff…”_ But it was too late. An orc with machine guns for tits came up behind Tweek’s character, cleaving him neatly in twain.

 

“No big, man. You’ll respawn nearby.”

 

As Craig continued to clack away at the controller’s buttons, Tweek stared down at his own controller nestled evenly on his lap.

 

“Dude, you’re loaded back in! Come on! Get the – ”

 

But the blonde – who had casually leaned over to plant a kiss on Craig’s cheek – no longer seemed interested in playing.

 

Craig’s eyes widened in the dim glow of the TV screen. The lips were still there, warm and soft against his cheekbone. He turned to stare at Tweek in shock, inadvertently brushing the tips of their noses together. Their foreheads touched. Tweek’s breath plumed against his lips, sweet and minty and startlingly warm.

 

In a fraction of a second, Craig’s mind sped through a series of unwanted observations. _His eyes are gree_ _n_ _… his hand is on my knee… a lock of blonde hair is touching me… I could pick him up… his parents won’t be home for several hours… he’s about to kiss me._

 

He was right about that last part. Carefully, and with feathery lightness, Tweek brushed his lips against Craig’s. It wasn’t so much a kiss as it was an impossibly quick touching. Nevertheless, Craig’s toes curled up in his socks.

 

“I HAVE TO GO NOW!!”

 

Craig bolted up straight from the couch as though he’d been stabbed, knocking the controller out of his lap. Pivoting in place, he stalked robotically out of the living room, eyes wide, mouth agape.

 

“C-craig! Wait!”

 

Craig snatched his shoes out of the caddy, not stopping to put them on as he threw open the heavy front door and promptly fled the scene.


	5. Chapter 5

 

_Thud… thud… thud… thud… thud…_

 

The door had been knocking for five solid minutes before Kenny McCormick heard it over the roar of his video game. He sprung from the lumpy couch with a start, weaving quickly through the piles of trash and laundry covering the floor.

 

He undid the door lock, deadbolt, bottom lock, top lock and chain, hand poised on the Louisville Slugger against the wall as he threw open the door.

 

Kenny’s eyes widened in awe. There, silhouetted in his door frame against a backdrop of gray sky and drizzle, stood Craig Tucker of all people. The boy was soaked through, his clothes hanging wet and dark off his athletic frame. His wool hat was bloated and cocked at an odd angle. He was barefoot and holding a pair of shoes.

 

“Can I talk to you?”

 

Kenny blinked just to be sure he wasn’t hallucinating. He shuffled out of the way, holding his arm outstretched, gesturing the soggy boy in. Wordlessly his new guest brushed past him, not bothering to put down a towel before he plopped down on the badly sagging couch.

 

“Um…” Kenny leaned out past the doorframe, glancing around before easing the door closed. He padded back over, taking a seat on a brown La-Z-Boy that looked like it had seen its fair share of animal births.

 

“Who was at the door Honey Buns?”

 

Craig winced. He’d spent the whole walk over hoping _he_ wouldn’t be home.

 

Butters poked his head out of Kenny’s kitchen.  He was wearing a paisley blue apron and yellow dish gloves and was busy drying a plate. His poofball was meticulously brushed down over one bright blue eye. Very homosexually, Craig noted with disdain. “Hey Craig!”

 

“Hey Butters,” Craig intoned, not reciprocating any of the femmy twink’s eagerness and warmth.

 

“So… what’s up?” Kenny studied his soggy acquaintance with rapt attention, unsure of whether he should have left the baseball bat by the door or brought it with him.

 

Craig sighed, tugging off his hat. He combed his fingers through his soaking wet hair, which had already formed a halo of dampness on Kenny’s couch. He rested his head back, staring at nothing, saying nothing.  For so long, Kenny thought he may not have heard him.  Right as Kenny went to repeat himself, Craig opened his mouth to speak.

 

“Why are you gay?”

 

The question caught Kenny off guard. He snorted, collapsing back in the chair, guffawing loudly.

 

“What’s so funny Sweetums?”  chirped Butters’ very punchable voice from the kitchen.

 

“Oh man… _babe_ , Craig just asked me why I’m gay!”

 

Butters’ poofball emerged from around the corner.  “Oh, Kenny’s not gay.  He’s pansexual!”

 

Craig’s eyes widened.  “What?”

 

Kenny grinned at him.  “Yep.  S’true.”

 

Butters, who had pried off his dishwashing gloves to join them in the living room, took up a seat in Kenny’s lap, much to Craig’s chagrin.  “An’ I’m a monoamorous demiboy with slight bisexual leanings!”

 

Craig hyperventilated into his cupped fingers.  “WHAT DOES ANY OF THAT EVEN _MEAN?!?!”_

 

Smirking, Kenny waggled his eyebrows at him.  “Around here, it just means that we’re gay.”

 

Craig groaned, slamming his head back against the couch cushion.

 

“What’s this about?”

 

Rubbing his temple, Craig stared up at the popcorn ceiling, refusing to look at the two of them.  “Tweek has been… um.  A handful.  Lately.”

 

“Ahhh,” Kenny nodded sagely.  “So the pot finally boiled over, eh?  ‘Bout damn time.  That boy’s nuts are probably as blue and swollen as your hat by now.  Which, speaking of…” He gave Butters a gentle pat on the rump, making the little cocksleeve squeak.  “Babe, would you run upstairs and grab our good friend here a towel?  The one not covered in stains, if’n you’d please.  Only the best for my guests.”

 

“Okey-dokey!”

 

Leaning in to peck Kenny on the corner of his mouth (and making Craig wretch in the process) Butters slid out of Kenny’s lap, capering away up the stairs.  

 

“Mmmf…” Kenny scratched his chest through his wifebeater, staring after the boy.  “Y’know… I hate to see him go.  But I _love_ to watch him leave.”

 

Craig struggled to keep his breakfast down.   _“Can we talk about me now?!”_

 

“Huh?”  Kenny perked up as though remembering Craig’s presence in his house.  “Oh!  Yeah.  Your thing.  What’s up?”

 

“It’s Tweek!  He’s… _uggh_ …” Craig pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.  “He’s been really clingy lately.  Like, stalking me.  And…”

 

“Yeah, yeah… following you into stinky janitor closets for hot makeout sessions.  What else?”

 

Craig’s eyes dilated in shock.  “How could you possibly know that?!”

 

Kenny chuckled, reclining in his chair like a king upon his throne.  “Dude… we live in a town of less than a thousand people.  There are, like, ten queers in South Park.  We talk.”

 

“Who else knows?!”

 

“Um…” Kenny stared into the middle distance, cycling through his fingers.  “Me… Butters…Bradley... one of the goth kids… Big Gay Al… Stan’s dog…”

 

_“Who the fuck else!”_

 

“Woah!” Kenny held up his hands in surrender.  “Chill dude!  We’re quiet.  Keepin’ stuff on the DL is our _forte_ , as the French say.”

 

Craig made a noise like a wounded polar bear, covering his face with his hands.

 

“So the spazz has a crush on you.  So what?  What do you want me to do about it?”

 

“I want you to tell me how to get him off my case!”

 

“Oh.”  Kenny’s brow furrowed.  “How about… you…” He snapped his fingers, eyes lighting up.  “Ooh!  Kick his ass!”

 

Craig, caught off guard, blinked in rapid succession.  “What?”

 

“Nono, that’s totally it!”  Kenny grinned cheekily.  “Next time you see him, kick the ever-loving shit out of him.  I’m talkin’ two black eyes, a busted lip, bruises from head to toe.  Nothin’ says ‘I’m not interested’ like a broken jaw.”

 

Craig massaged his twitching temple.  “I’m not gonna do that.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I’m not going to kick Tweek’s ass!”

 

A mischievous curl formed in the corner of Kenny’s mouth.  “Why not though?”

 

“Because I don’t want to _hurt_ him!”

 

The room was silent for a moment.  Then, in a low voice, Kenny whispered:  “Wanna know how I know you’re gay?”

 

All of Craig’s muscles wound up at once as though he were readying to pounce.   _“I’m not gay!”_

 

But Kenny only chuckled.  “Oh yes you are.  Dude… do you even hear yourself?  I’ve personally watched you beat up half the kids at our school.  For _way_ less.  But Tweek can follow you around like a lost puppy and make out with you in a closet and you don’t wanna hurt him?”

 

Craig’s mouth hung open.  “He’s my friend!”

 

“You’ve beaten up your friends.  Clyde.  Token.  Never Tweek though.  Why is that?”

 

“We’ve fought before!”

 

“Yeah.  And you both came out of it with minor scrapes and bruises.  Dude, if you hadn’t been pulling your punches, you would have _destroyed_ him.  

 

Craig was flabbergasted.  

 

“Admit it.  You don’t want to hurt him - not because he’s your friend, but because you _care about him.”_

 

“He has a rough home life!”

 

The words, so unexpected, caught Craig off guard.   _A rough home life?_ Who the fuck cares?  And where the fuck did that come from?  What, was he Tweek’s guidance counselor now?

 

The grin splitting Kenny’s face from ear to ear churned Craig’s stomach.  He gathered up his shoes and bolted out of his seat.  “Alright, hey, fuck you _super_ hard.  I’m leaving.”

 

Kenny was after him in a flash, circling around to cut Craig off at the door.  “Craig!  Wait a minute!”

 

Temporarily barred from the exit, Craig snarled through clenched teeth.   _“What?”_

 

Lightning flashed in Kenny’s eyes as he moistened his lips with his tongue.

 

The moment Kenny kissed him, all of Craig’s muscles locked up at once.  He was frozen in place like a statue, eyes distended in terror as the boy’s chapped lips worked against his.  

 

No sooner had Craig gone to tilt his head, Kenny broke their kiss and rocked back on his heels, studying his petrified guest with amusement.  Wearing his biggest shit-eating grin, he gleefully proclaimed:  “Yeah… sorry dude.  You’re totally gay.”

 

Craig, still in shock, stared down at the boy.  His fist shot out, colliding with Kenny’s stomach.  

 

_“Oof!”_

 

Sidestepping Kenny, Craig threw open the door and disappeared back into the rain from whence he came.  

 

Kenny, curled in the fetal position on the carpet, only chuckled.  “Okay!”  he called after the retreating boy.  “See ya later, sis!  Welcome to the family!”


	6. Chapter 6

 

Bronchitis sucks major donkey dick.

 

_“Uggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggghhh…”_

 

Three days after his barefoot power walk to Kenny’s house in 30-degree Colorado weather, Craig found himself squinting at his ruddy reflection in the toothpaste-flecked bathroom mirror.  He looked exactly how he felt: pale, pasty and puffy, like someone had just fished his bloated corpse out of a storm drain.  Eyelids gunky, nose rubbed raw.  

 

Having brushed the taste of sawdust from his mouth, Craig flipped off the light, staggering back over to his bed like a heat-crazed cow.  He collapsed horizontally across the sweaty sheets, not even bothering to scrape off all the wadded-up tissues and crumpled snack wrappers.  Everything on him hurt.  His bedsheets reeked of swamp dick and murdered time.

 

“Craig,” came his little sister’s voice at his bedroom door.  “Mom says it’s time for dinner.  She wants me to see if you’re still alive.  And if you want some barbeque.”

 

“ _Uuuughh!_ ”

 

“Okay, well… is that a yes?”

 

“ _Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuggggghhh!!_ ”

 

“MOM,” Ruby called downstairs.  “Craig’s dead.  And he doesn’t want barbeque.”

  
Craig went to pry myself from his bedsheets, but couldn’t.  They were sticky.  Through no fault of his own for once.  

 

 _This is a good place to die,_ Craig thought to himself, staring up at the ceiling as the room pitched and yawed beneath him.   _Ass-up on my bed in my boxer shorts, surrounded by wreaths of Twinkie wrappers and wadded mucus rags.  An honored and dignified way to go.  Who could ask for more?_

 

Closing his eyes, Craig sighed.  He’d pissed away an entire weekend by getting sick, managed to get gay-kissed by not one but _two_ local area sausage squatters, and on top of all that he was going to have homework to do.  Fan-fucking-tastic.

 

Oh, and Craig already knew who his teacher would get to drop off his homework.  Of course he did.  Who the fuck else?

 

Sure enough, about twenty minutes later there came three timid knocks downstairs.  Straining to listen, he heard his sister Ruby answer the door.  Muffled words were exchanged.  The door closed.

 

_Please just drop off the books and leave… please just drop off the books and leave… please just drop off the books and leave…_

 

But no.  Footsteps on the stairs, too heavy and timid to be Ruby’s. Craig scampered hastily underneath his bedsheets, unwilling to let _him_ see his chones.  Like, ever.

 

His bedroom door knocked.  In came (guess who!) Tweek, his skinny arms laden with seven courses worth of homework.  Upon seeing Craig, his deep-set eyes went wide.

 

“Yeah, yeah… I look like shit.”  

 

“N-no!  You look…” Tweek worked his knuckles together.  “...f-fine.”

 

Once the air between them had stilled, Craig gestured over to the space he’d cleared on his cluttered desk.  Tweek stalked awkwardly over, deposited the sheaf of papers and slinked quickly back to the door.  There he paused, one shaky hand on the glass doorknob.

 

“I’m… sorry.  For what happened.  Kenny told me.”

 

Craig’s eyes narrowed to condemning little slits.  He exhaled loudly through his nose.  “Yeah… come to find out you guys talk a lot.  Don’t you?”

 

Tweek’s brow furrowed.  “I’m not gonna apologize for talking to my friends.  It’s lonely here.  If you were gay, you’d know that.”

 

Craig shrugged dismissively.  “I’m not gay though.”

 

“Okay Craig.  Okay.”  

 

Shaking his head, Tweek turned the knob.

 

“Why me though?”

 

This time Craig didn’t mind the words that came pouring over his cracked lips.  He was in that twilight where everything ached and nothing felt important.

 

Tweek’s hand dropped from the doorknob, dangling at his side.  “Why you what?”

 

“Just… why me?  Of all the dudes in town you could be crushing on, what’s so special about me?  I’m not gay.  I’m not good-looking…”

 

“Beg to differ,” Tweek smirked.

 

“...I’m not nice to you.  I’m not nice to anyone.  I’m an asshole.  So why waste your time on something that could never happen?  Why not go after Bradley?  Or that one goth kid?  Or fuck, Kenny and Poofball seem like they’d be down for some freaky shit.  Why not trio up with them?  Just think of all the positions.  The possibilities are endless!”

 

Tweek’s face went slack, and right away Craig knew he’d said too much.

 

“I’m not gonna bother you anymore,” Tweek said, not meeting Craig’s gaze.  “I made up my mind.  I’m gonna leave you alone.”

 

“Tweek,” Craig groaned.

 

“No - it’s okay.  I hope you get to feeling better Craig.  See you at school, okay?”

 

As Tweek went to turn the knob again, Craig lifted his pillow and slapped it over his face, screaming into it.   _“Arrrgh!”_

 

In the room beyond the darkness of his stinky pillow, all was silent.  He had a massive headache.  His socks and the small of his back were drenched in sweat.  “I just... “

 

Resolving to just let the words tumble out as they may, Craig drew a ragged breath.  “I’m trying to look out for you.  Y’know?”

 

“No.  I don’t know.  Why don’t you explain it to me.”

 

Craig gritted his teeth.  “Asshole.  I don’t want you to get hurt.”

 

The air was still again.  Then, footsteps padding over the worn floorboards, a meager weight shifting over the old springs of his bed.

 

“I don’t need you to look after me, Craig.  I don’t need you to suggest other guys for me to chase after.  And I don’t need you to list all your imperfections.  We’ve been friends since preschool.  Trust me, I know them all by heart.”

 

Craig bit his bottom lip, pinching his eyes closed underneath his pillow.

 

“But to answer your question… I don’t really know why I like you.  You’re right.  You’re not nice sometimes.  But once in a blue moon… you’ll say or do something for someone and it’s like you’re the sweetest guy in the whole world.”  

 

Craig felt delicate fingers reach over and gently grab his wrist.  He tensed at their touch, trying to stifle the urge to swat them away.  “M-maybe it’s just me seeing what I want to see.  But sometimes, it’s like I’m watching a different you.  A you that I really like.  A you that...” Tweek gulped audibly.  “...a you that, deep down, might actually like me back.”

 

Craig shook his head, sighing.  “I’m telling ya dude… this can’t have a happy ending.  I can’t be this thing you want me to be.   You’re just gonna end up wasting your time.”

 

“Hmm…”

 

Craig’s eyes widened as he heard the bedsprings shift, as he felt Tweek throw his leg over his waist, straddling him.  

 

“Tweek, what the --”

 

Tweek gripped either side of the pillow, holding it down over Craig’s eyes.  

 

“I told you.  Don’t tell me who to chase after,” Tweek purred as he leaned in.  

 

The presence of the boy’s warm lips against his no longer surprised Craig.  Their chewed texture, the taste of French roast coffee on Tweek’s otherwise impeccable breath, even the way the boy’s fingernails gripped his shirt… all of it was second nature to him by now.

 

Craig’s head felt warm, his thoughts loose and desensitized.  From deep within the recesses of the pillow being pressed down over the top half of his face, he studied himself.  The way he tilted his head to give Tweek access to his mouth.  How he allowed him to take the lead.  The way his hands instinctively rose to grip the boy’s narrow waist without shoving him off.

 

 _Maybe I could be,_ Craig thought dispassionately.   _Fuck… maybe I am._

 

Craig tried to think of the last girl he’d ever given the remotest shit about.  No names or faces came to mind.  The girls he dated never lasted more than a few months and were generally pretty disposable.  Had he ever backed down from a fight with any of his girlfriends?  Had he ever noticed the smell of shampoo in their hair, or the color of their eyes?  

 

_I mean… would it really be that bad?_

 

Craig’s hands slipped beneath Tweek’s shirt, blindly exploring Tweek’s skin as they kissed.  His belly felt warm and firm beneath his heated fingertips.

 

_He’s not… like… the worst-looking dude.  No homo._

 

An errant finger slid over Tweek’s chest, gracing his nipple.  A contented sigh passed between their lips as the skin beneath Craig’s wandering hands erupted in goosebumps.  

 

In some deep, hidden part of Craig’s feverish mind, it was like a switch had been flipped on.  

 

In one fluid motion he rolled them over, pinning the blonde beneath him.  Rearing up, he wedged himself between Tweek’s legs, crushing the lumpy pillow down over the startled boy’s eyes.  

 

“C-craig!”

 

Craig kissed him to shut him up.  Roughly.  Violently.  His hand slipped back beneath Tweek’s shirt, rubbing and squeezing with wild abandon.  When the shirt started offering resistance, he fumbled at the buttons, somehow managing to wrench them apart without their lips ever breaking contact.

 

_This isn’t… so bad.  No homo._

 

Tweek, for his part, seemed to have no trouble matching Craig’s enthusiasm beat for beat.  His narrow hands rose to cup either side of Craig’s face.  His legs hooked around Craig’s waist, his hips curling up to accommodate him.

 

_God dammit… I could take Tweek’s pulse through his khakis right now…_

 

The pillow was getting in the way, Craig decided.  He gripped it by a corner, flinging it off the bed.  Tweek stared up at him, his eyes wide, feral and glass green, like he expected Craig to beat the crap out of him.  

 

“You’re staying the night,” Craig growled authoritively.  

 

Tweek’s eyes doubled in size.  “B-but… it’s a weekday.”

 

“Don’t care.  Call your folks.  Make up an excuse.”

 

Craig watched a swallow travel down Tweek’s slender throat.  The blonde nodded quickly, unsure of whether he should be excited or terrified.


	7. Chapter 7

 

“It’s so… um… nice of you to join us for dinner, Tweek.”

 

Tweek nodded quickly, forcing an awkward smile, his gaze never once leaving his plate of barbeque.  

 

Craig stared daggers at the boy from across the table, aggressively chewing his food.  On either side of him, Craig’s parents eyed one another nervously.  

 

After an interminable period spent listening to silverware scraping on plates, Craig’s dad cleared his throat.  “So, uuh… how was your day today Ruby?”

 

As Craig’s sister began to prattle on about the events of her day, Tweek hazarded a quick glance up.  Craig’s fatigued eyes caught his and seemed to bore straight into his soul.  Tweek’s eyes jerked back to the slowly disappearing stack of pulled pork in front of him, a faint blush trailing across the bridge of his nose.

 

“Tweek honey, how’s your parents coffee shop doing?  Business been good?”

 

“Yes ma’am,” Tweek wiped his mouth with his napkin.  “We’ve been getting a lot of business now that it’s turned colder out.  My dad’s been thinking about hiring… _gffff_ …”

 

Tweek bit his bottom lip to stifle a moan.  Craig’s bare foot rubbed against his ankle underneath the table.  

 

At first Tweek thought it might have been an accident.  Then it happened again.  The calloused pads of the boy’s toes stroked against his inner arch, sending a tingle running up his spine.  Tweek gripped the table as his arms and legs broke out in goosebumps.

 

“Tweek?  You okay son?”

 

_“F-fine!”_

 

Once the Tucker family finally turned their attention away, Tweek shot Craig a pleading glance.  But Craig only held his gaze, slowly chewing his food as his foot wandered its way up Tweek’s calf.

 

* * *

 

After dinner, Tweek slinked after Craig like a lost puppy, following him up the stairs.

 

“In there.  Full shower.  Now.”

 

He pushed Tweek into a hall bathroom, flinging a set of pajamas in after him and quickly shutting the door.  

 

Clutching the jumbled wad of fabric to his chest, Tweek stared at the door for several seconds, blinking in slow succession.  He’d never been on a date before, but he was pretty sure this wasn’t how you were supposed to go about one.

 

* * *

  

A while later, Tweek emerged from the bathroom amid a cloud of steam, slowly toweling the dampness from his hair.  The PJs Craig had given him were way too big.  He had them rolled twice at the cuffs and was still sloshing around in the checkered fabric.

 

He crossed the hall, careful not to squeak any of the floorboards.  At Craig’s door he hesitated, hand trembling on the doorknob as he steeled himself for whatever lay ahead.

 

The door creaked open on its hinges.  Inside, Craig stood tap dead center in the middle of the room, working his hands together anxiously.  He had clearly jumped in his own shower right after shoving Tweek into the one in the hallway.  His hair was damp and shiny, his skin was red, and he had on a new pair of pajamas.

 

Looking past him, Tweek noted that Craig had also remade the bed with clean sheets.

 

“C-come in,” Craig commanded.  

 

Tweek obeyed, slipping inside and shutting the door.  

 

“Sit down,” Craig ordered.

 

Again Tweek did as he was told, padding over the worn floorboards and sitting down on the edge of the bed.  For a time only the sound of settling springs filled the room as the boys stared at one another like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

 

Finally, once the stillness between them had grown unbearable, Craig reached out a tentative hand.  His fingers shook badly as they combed through Tweek’s damp hair, tucking waves of it behind the boy’s ear.

 

“I have no fucking clue what I’m doing,” Craig sighed in dismay.

 

Tweek’s hand rose to gently gather the trembling fingers.  He planted a kiss in the center of Craig’s palm, then nuzzled his cheek into it, making him shiver.  Craig swallowed dryly as he stroked his thumb along Tweek’s cheekbone.  Murky green eyes stared up at him, scared and wanting.

 

“We’re just experimenting,” Craig muttered, mostly to himself.  “Just fooling around.  That’s all.”

 

* * *

 

Some time later, there was a chair wedged beneath the doorknob.  The boys were in bed together, making out like death row inmates using up their last conjugal visit.  

 

The blankets and top sheet were pooled on the floor and the boys’ PJ tops were nowhere to be found.  Craig had Tweek pinned underneath him, the blonde’s slender legs hooked tightly around his waist.  Tweek’s fingernails gently scratched lines into Craig’s back, then slid down to snake beneath the waistband of his pajama bottoms, boldly squeezing the boy’s ass through his underwear.

 

“Tweek,” Craig growled in warning before stooping to nibble his friend’s throat.  

 

“S-sorry,” Tweek sighed, combing his fingers through Craig’s thick black hair as yet another hickie was placed on his delicate skin.  The tip of Craig’s tongue traced up Tweek’s slender throat, making the blonde moan.  Craig kissed him to shut him back up.

 

Their play had gotten a little aggressive of late.  Craig, now feverish from both sickness and arousal, didn’t know how to feel about it.  Before they’d started, he had laid down clear rules of engagement.  Boundaries that Tweek must never cross, or else he’d be on the receiving end of a mean kidney punch.  

 

As time wore on, however, they’d both grown more adventurous.  The hard line Craig had drawn between youthful experimentation and full-blown sex had blurred significantly.  Craig was having trouble remembering what his boundaries were.

 

“Craig,” Tweek whimpered as Craig ground their hips together.  Craig hated to admit it, but the noises Tweek made, the soft squeaks and moans that escaped his chewed lips, were stirring something deep inside him.  The salty sweet taste of the boy’s sweat had him hard as granite.  

 

With each successive grind into the boy’s upturned hips, Tweek’s grip grew tighter and tighter around his midsection.  To the point where it was actually starting to hurt.

 

“Dude, could you ease up a little with the--”

 

_“Craig,”_  Tweek squeaked.  Hearing the strain in his friend’s voice, Craig reared up to see what was the matter.  

 

Tweek’s face was flushed.  His skin was glistening with sweat, and his eyes were wide and wild.

 

“Fuck,” Craig stared in amazement.  “You’re getting close.  Aren’t you?”

 

Writhing softly beneath him, Tweek only nodded.  His naked chest rose and fell with anxious breathing.  The tent in his underwear had a prominent damp spot on it.

 

“W-wh…” Craig’s mouth felt dry.  “What do you want me to… do?”

 

Tweek’s hand flashed to Craig’s wrist, drawing the boy’s hand down to his crotch without a moment’s hesitation.

 

“Please,” Tweek whimpered.  “Please.”

 

_Well… fuck,_ thought Craig as he found himself gripping Tweek through his underwear.  Tweek’s bulge was remarkably firm between his fingers.  Craig noted that Tweek’s dick felt different than his - shorter perhaps, but surprisingly thick.  It seemed to radiate heat right through the starchy fabric and into Craig’s hand.

 

Slowly Craig began to stroke, forming a ‘C’ with his hand and working back and forth over it, gauging Tweek’s reaction all the while.  The boy squirmed beneath his touch, moaning, arching his back enough to lift somewhat from the bed.

 

_Fucking fuck this is so hot._  “You like that?” Craig asked, his voice just above a purr.

 

“Y-y- _yes_ …”

 

Craig shifted over until he was laying beside Tweek on the bed.  “Tell me how bad you want it,” he growled against Tweek’s ear, catching them both off guard.

 

“Oh god.. oh g-god Craig… you have… _gfff_ … you have no idea…”

 

Craig nibbled Tweek’s earlobe, eliciting a full-body shudder.  “Have you ever thought about me while you jacked it?”

 

“C-craig,” Tweek pleaded.

 

“Tell me,” Craig growled, slowing down his strokes.

 

“Y-yes!  God dammit, Craig, _yes!_  M-more times than I can count!”  He swallowed, palming the sweat from his face.  “Fuck, I can’t remember a single time this _year_ when I haven’t jacked off thinking about you!”

 

The boy’s strained words caught Craig by surprise.  For a time all he could do was stare down at Tweek in amazement, eyebrows raised to a peak.  Then, lowering himself down, he tucked his face into the space between Tweek’s head and the pillow.

 

“C-craig… what are you--”

 

When Craig took Tweek’s earlobe in his teeth, the blonde nearly leapt out of his skin.  A full-body shiver rocked him from head to toe.  

 

When Craig began to nibble and suck where his ear joined his jaw, it was as if his body had been struck by lightning.  

 

When Craig started to jack him off again, he nearly passed out.

 

This feeling was… indescribable.  Tweek’s chewed fingernails dug into the bedsheets as his eyes went out of focus.  He ground his hips into each stroke, panting as his ear was teased and licked.  He wanted so badly for the fabric to not be in the way.  He wanted to feel Craig’s calloused hand on his cock.  The smell of Craig’s skin rubbing against his, the feel of his hand between his legs, touching him, working him… it was every fantasy, every anxious late night masturbation session he’d ever had rolled up into one tangible, real moment.  He wanted this feeling to last forever.

 

But his body was telling him that the festivities would soon be over.  Very soon, in fact.  

 

“Craig,” Tweek whimpered.  “I’m… I’m gonna…”

 

Craig knew what that sound meant.  And, sure enough.

 

Wow.  Oh WOW.  

 

Craig watched in utter amazement as Tweek seemed to cum _through_ his underwear.  

 

He almost wished the boy weren’t spasming so hard so that he could watch the fireworks.  First one spurt broke through, landing a sizeable distance up Tweek’s heaving belly.  Another made it just far enough to menace the lip of the boy’s boxer-briefs.  The rest caught Craig on the back of the hand.

 

For a time Craig just stared down at his glazed fingers, mouth agape.  Tweek was an out-of-focus writhing blur beyond his hand, riding out the tail end of his orgasm as a bead of cum formed at the tip of Craig’s fingertips.  It dangled from a thin line before snapping free, falling in slow-mo down to the sweat-drenched bedsheets below.


	8. Chapter 8

 

For the longest time afterward, no one spoke.

 

Tweek stared up at the ceiling, the bed sheet pulled up tight beneath his chin.

 

Craig was just lying there on his side of the bed.  Gripping his wrist.  Studying his hand.

 

Tweek swallowed softly, trying not to attract the boy’s attention.  He hadn’t meant to cum on Craig’s hand.  It just… sort of happened.  

 

Right as he opened his mouth to apologize, Craig let out a loud sigh.  “I’m on board.”

 

Caught momentarily off guard, Tweek blinked in succession.  “You’re… on board?”

 

Bringing his arm down, Craig nodded.

 

“With… what?”

 

“With this,” Craig gestured around, as though it were obvious.  “With all of it.  I’ll be gay with you.”

 

Tweek’s eyes widened.  “W-w-wh…”

 

Craig rolled over on his side to face the startled boy.  “I mean… it’s not like I have much of a choice.  You’re never gonna leave me alone now.  And I just got another dude’s splooge all over my hand, thereby making me gay.  So whatever.  Fuck it.  I’ll be gay with you.”

 

Tweek’s heart was beating a mile a minute.  Was this real?  

 

“So… d-does that just mean we can do this again?  Or…”

 

Rolling his eyes, Craig leveraged himself up on his arms.  Tweek let out a soft squeak as Craig gathered up his wrists, pinning them to either side of his head.  “It means that if I have to be a fag, I’m gonna go all in.  So guess what?  We’re boyfriends now.  And we’re gonna do all the regular shit gay dudes do.  Hold hands in public.  Make out at school.  Sex.  You name it.”

 

Tweek flushed a bright shade of red from head to toe.

 

“Word of warning though: I’m very protective.  If I ever catch a guy flirting with you, I’ll kick his ass.  If I ever catch you flirting with another guy, I’ll kick his ass and then _your_ ass.  Got it?”

 

Tweek swallowed and nodded.  Dear god, Craig didn’t have to worry about that.  Ever.

 

“I ain’t a psycho though.  If you want out someday, just tell me.  I’m just saying don’t… break my heart.  Or whatever.  It takes me a while to open up, but when I do, and somebody hurts me, that shit really fucks with my head.  So…”

 

By this point, Tweek’s vision was beginning to mist over.  Lacing their fingers together, he pressed his lips to Craig’s, shutting out those terrifying words forever.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first thing Tweek noticed as he awoke in the hazy light of morning was just how cold the world felt beyond the scratchy fleece of his blanket.  The second thing he noticed was that it wasn’t _his_ blanket per se - it was _their_ blanket.  A bleary smile spread over Tweek’s face as he snuggled down into the warmth of Craig’s shoulder.

 

“Mph,” Craig gurgled in his sleep.  “Dagger chin.”

 

Craig’s bottom half was curled up into his torso.  The lack of lower body contact between them was upsetting Tweek to no end.  Quick to rectify the situation, he scooched down a bit, gently curling against him, big spoon to little spoon.  

 

 _Goddamn it,_ Tweek thought.   _He’s just so warm._  It was like cuddling with a radiator.  The pads of Craig’s feet were scalding hot against the tops of his own.  But Tweek just held him tight, gladly absorbing the excess body heat.  His fingers slipped under the hem of his new boyfriend’s muscle shirt, sliding over the gentle curve of his belly.

 

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it to school today,” Tweek sniffled.

 

“I don’t think so either,” Craig chuckled.  “Your own fault for making out with a sick person.”

 

Tweek grinned as he kissed the scruff of Craig's neck. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

 

“No comment.”

 

Through the pinpricks of light streaming down through the blanket, Craig’s hair looked like pure fluffy nonsense.  Like a spool of black yarn someone left in a dryer on high.  It smelled like tea tree oil shampoo, a dirty bedroom and heaven.  

 

“How are we gonna break it to everyone?”

 

“What’s there to break?  Most of the town already thinks we’re gay.  At most we’ll have to come out to, like, five of our friends.  And if any of ‘em got beef, I’ll kick their ass.”

 

As Craig’s arm encircled his and their fingers dovetailed together, a Cheshire grin sprawled its way across Tweek’s face.

 

“Hey Craig?”

 

“Mm-hmm?”

 

“I love you.”

 

Turning his face, Craig pressed a quick kiss into the corner of Tweek’s mouth.  “Yeah, yeah.  I love you too.  Douchebag.”

 

They held eachother like that in the watery light of a frigid Colorado morning.  Telling jokes, giggling together like the old friends they were.  Neither made a move to retrieve the heavy duvet lying crumpled and abandoned beside the bed.  They didn’t need it anymore.  


	9. Chapter 9

 

**Tweek’s POV - 3 weeks later**

 

_“Yow!”_

 

I seethed as a watery bubble of blood formed on my leg, slithering its way over a thin patch of shaving cream before finally pooling on a fluffy cloud of the stuff.

 

It wasn’t a bad cut. I had just come in at too much of an angle with the safety razor. But it was my fifth or sixth knick in almost as many minutes, which sort of defeats the purpose of shaving your legs. No guy wants to get to third base with Freddy Krueger.

 

Sighing, I worked my finger through the cream, smoothing it over the knick to seal it. I don’t even know why I was still trying. I mean, what’s the point of having baby smooth legs if it looks like they got mauled by a cat?

 

Finishing the last few swipes, I rested my head against the tiled wall beside the tub. My gams were as good as they were gonna get - all ready for a night of chafing and irritation at the bowling alley. The guys had invited me. Or rather, they had invited _us_.

 

I leaned over, grabbing my phone off the back of the toilet and pressing the button. I still had thirty minutes to go before Craig was supposed to show up. I didn’t even care that I was stewing in a soup of my own body sweat and foamy leg shavings - I needed a spa day. I turned the knob for the hot water, letting the tub fill up some more. Once it was just a few inches from sloshing over, I killed the tap, slouching down in the tub until the waterline was at my lips.

 

I don’t know why I shaved my legs. We had school tomorrow, so Craig definitely wasn’t going to be staying the night. Heck, he probably wouldn’t even notice. But… the thought that he _might_ see my legs and _might_ like that they were smooth had been enough to encourage me to down half a Red Bull and undertake this 20 minute long military campaign.

 

Cigarettes After Sex’s slow, dreary cover of REO Speedwagon’s “Keep on Loving You” had just started up on my Spotify. The only light on in the bathroom was the single dim yellow bulb above the sink. Good calming vibes. Studying my murky reflection on the water’s surface, I gave a bubbly sigh, settling in.

 

I guess I was having new relationship jitters. Craig and me had been going out for a little over three weeks now. And… _fuck_ was I happy. I was so goddamn happy that it was making me miserable. Because, as a Catholic, I know that no one deserves to cuddle and kiss with their best friend every weekend, and pretty soon something bad has to happen to balance things out.

 

I think I’m just scared. I’m scared that Craig will wake up one morning and realize he was just going through a bi-curious phase. That he really likes girls and can’t be with me anymore because ew, that’s fucking gay dude.

 

I sunk further down in the tub, now nothing more than a pair of eyes and a frayed bird’s nest of blonde hair on the water’s surface.

 

It didn’t help that Craig was mysterious as fuck. He’s so stone-faced and quiet. Most of the time it’s like we’re just two friends hanging out. We play video games, smoke weed, get into fights, and hang out with our other friends at the mall. But then… every once in a while… while he and I are out in town doing something mundane, like wandering the isles at Home Depot or shopping for quinoa at Trader Joe’s, Craig will wait until I have my back turned, creep up behind me, slip his hand down my pants and grab my bare ass.

 

It doesn’t seem to matter how many people are in the aisle with us at the time, or how loud I squeal. He’ll just fucking go for it. I’d be studying the label on an overpriced bottle of kombucha with my back turned towards him, and then all of a sudden his cold hand is on my ass.

 

My point is, it’s like there are two Craigs. One who’s just my friend, and the other who seems to like-like me but I can’t ever really be sure.

 

Suddenly, the horrifying thought entered my mind that Craig was only staying with me to avoid hurting my feelings. That he was only pretending to like me, and I was inconveniencing him by not realizing it.

 

Before my eyes could finish welling up, my phone rang. Which was excellent timing, because Ben Folds Five’s “Brick” was about ten seconds in on my phone, and without my ringtone cutting it off that would have been one bitch of a cry.

 

“H-hello?”

 

“Hey asshat. I’m outside. Shovel your driveway.”

 

“Craig?” I blinked, checking the clock on my phone. He was a little early, but I had definitely been in the tub for too long.

 

“Who else in your contacts is named Craig?”

 

Actually Craig is saved in my phone as ‘Boyfriend’. But he didn’t need to know that.

 

“S-sorry!” I said, standing up. “I kind of zoned out.”

 

“Well hurry up. It’s cold as shit out here.”

 

The line went dead. Craig doesn’t really say goodbye at the end of phone conversations.

 

I sloshed my way out of the tub, not even bothering to drain it as I made quick work of toweling off and getting dressed. Taking the carpeted stairs two at a time, I paused just long enough to examine myself in the hall mirror, brushing my hair first one way, then the other before getting frustrated and purposefully mussing it all back up again. I worked down the locks on the door, throwing it open with a rush of frosty air.

 

Craig was resting against the side of the door beneath the porch light, one foot propped up against the siding. He turned to look down at me, one eyebrow arched.

 

“Hey Craig.”

 

“Mm-hmm.”

 

“Sorry. I’m ready.”

 

Not meeting his gaze, I turned and pulled my keys from my pocket, locking the house up. As I fumbled with the lock, I could feel his eyes running over me.

 

“Alright, we’re good to go. Sorry I --”

 

I stopped mid-sentence as I felt his lips graze my neck. My entire body broke out with goosebumps, which was slightly uncomfortable given that I’d just shaved my legs.

 

“You smell nice.”

 

His arms banded around me. I had one hand still braced against the door as he held me from behind. As he planted a delicate kiss against the curve of my ear, I slowly let out all the air from my lungs in one long, soundless moan.

 

“C-craig…”

 

“I haven’t seen you in two days.”

 

That was true. I’d had to work at my parents’ coffee shop over the weekend and couldn’t get away.

 

“Craig… we’ll be late… if--”

 

“Fuck ‘em. They’re just gonna bowl a few games and then go smoke weed at Kenny’s house. Lets blow ‘em off.”

 

His breath was oven hot against my neck. One of his hands had wormed its way into my jacket and was freely rubbing over my belly through my shirt.

 

His warmth was making me dizzy. I could feel how hard he was through the coarse fabric of his jeans.

 

“Are your folks home?”

 

“N-no. But I don’t know how late they’ll be gone.”

 

“We won’t fool around too much. I just wanna make out.”

 

Oh _fuck._ His touch was driving me wild. I found myself reflexively grinding back against the tent in his jeans as I fumbled for my keys, my hand shaking badly as I quickly tried to undo the lock. It didn’t help that Craig was nibbling my earlobe, or that he had managed to snag that sweet spot between my cheeks and was frotting himself against me with wild abandon.

 

Somehow I managed to get the door unlocked, and we tumbled through like drunks after happy hour, kissing as we violently tugged eachother out of our respective jackets.

 

Falling over the couch. Arching my back, nibbling the iodine-colored skin of his throat as he worked himself out of his overshirt. Kissing passionately as my hands explored the musculature of his lower back.

 

I shouldn’t have had so much caffeine. My heart was throwing itself against my ribcage like it was trying to escape.

 

God dammit… he’s so fucking beautiful. His piercing eyes, his perfect lips, his long arms… it’s like he had been built just for me. Back before I’d known any of this were possible, _this_ is what I jacked off to. The thought of Craig and me alone on a couch, stealing the breath from one another’s lungs used to push me over the edge time after time. And up until a month ago it had just been a bittersweet fantasy. Now it was real, and I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

 

“I love you,” he whispered. To _me!_ I hadn’t prompted him. I hadn’t prompted any of this! The way he kissed me… the way his body fit just right between my legs… the hardness behind his zipper… it was all for me. He _wanted_ to be here!

 

And that, unfortunately, got me thinking back to earlier in the bathtub.

 

Something must have changed, because when I snapped back to reality, Craig was hovering above me, a look of concern on his face.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Huh?” And then I felt it. My cheeks were flushed. My vision was blurry.

 

I had started to tear up while we were making out.

 

Shit, shit, shit! “Oh!” I fumbled, quickly palming the corners of my eyes. “S-sorry! I’m sorry. I, uuh… I’ve been having really bad allergies since Saturday. Guess I--”

 

But Craig wasn’t having it. “Tweek, what’s wrong?”

 

Before I could double down on my lie, Craig’s hand found mine and wove our fingers together. And then I… just proceeded to unload. Everything. All the bad thoughts, all the insecurities and fears and self doubt.

 

Christ, it was the biggest tonal shift ever. One minute we were going at it like mad, the next it was like I had booked space on my own couch for a therapy session. I wanted to stop, but in a way I also felt compelled to see this tragedy out to the end.

 

After what felt like an eternity I finally stopped blathering. Craig continued to hold my hand, stroking his thumb gently along the outer rim of my palm as I did my best to avoid eye contact. His long arms reached out, carefully gathering me up and easing me against his chest. He gripped me loosely, nuzzling his cheek against the top of my head.

 

“Listen Tweek,” his voice rumbled from deep within his chest. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been 100-percent clear. I’m still new to all of this. But dude… you’re like the most important thing in my life right now.”

 

It was like a sledgehammer hitting me in the chest. The air stung my no doubt beet red skin.

 

“I meant what I said a while back. I love you Tweek. And not just as a friend.”

 

He cradled my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my face back. His eyes were steely gray and perfect.

 

“Tell ya what… I promise I’ll start telling you that I love you more often. But in return… you need to start believing me when I say it. Deal?”

 

I nodded, barely able to see him. Unable to contain myself a moment longer, I launched forward, arms banding tightly around his neck as I kissed him. His arms found my waist and held me tight.

 

I don’t even know what I was feeling right then. Relief, embarrassment, elation, happiness… it was all congealed into one blur of emotion for me. The only feeling that really stood out from the fray was love. In that moment, I loved Craig with all my heart.

 

For the next hour or so, we cuddled, we kissed… and for the first time in my life, I felt like everything was going to be alright. The world wasn’t going to end. Not while Craig had me wrapped up in his arms.

 

We stayed there together on the couch for the rest of the evening, until we finally heard my parents’ car fishtailing over the snowy driveway.

 

“I love you Tweek,” Craig said one last time as my father’s keys jangled in the lock.

 

“I love you too,” I said as I hopped out of his lap and put a respectful distance between us.

 

My folks came in, exchanged niceties with Craig and made for the kitchen. Sensing it was time to go, we both stood up and slipped out the front door. Out on the porch in the biting night air, Craig glanced through the window to make sure my parents weren’t watching us. Then he leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek. “Alright babe. See you at school tomorrow.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Seriously though. Shovel your goddamn driveway.”

 

“I will,” I lied, grinning from ear to ear.

 

I watched him pick his way over the snow, waving him off as he disappeared around the bend leading to his house. Once he was out of eyesight I hastily slipped back inside, heaving as the heated air stung my skin.

 

I rested my back against the door, letting out a sigh of relief. My pulse was racing. I had butterflies in my stomach. I felt like a million bucks.

 

Craig loved me.

 

And he didn’t even need to feel my baby-smooth legs.

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

**Craig’s POV**

 

“ _Duuuude_ ,” chirped Kyle from high atop his boulder.  “We are hella lost.”

 

I didn’t bother to look up from the map as Kyle carefully picked his way down from his scouting post.  “Stop saying ‘hella’. Who still says ‘hella’ besides douchebags on the West Coast? And we’re _not_ lost.  We’re just… pleasantly surprised by where we are.”

 

Sprawled diagonally across the gingham cloth between the unpacked contents of our picnic, Kenny lowered a bunch of grapes into Butters’ mouth like he was a decadent Greek emperor.  

 

“My Scoutmaster told us that moss always grows facing civilization,” Butters said through a mouthful of pulp. He swallowed, then grinned wryly.  “That’s pretty much all I remember from that one week I was in Scouts.”

 

I squinted down at the wrinkled paper.  Stan’s Uncle Jimbo had given us a map showing where we could score some choice weed in the woods around Stark’s Pond.  My finger trailed along the indentation marks where the gun nut’s finger had lain a bit too heavily with the pencil.

 

“So…” I hummed as the guys gathered around.  “ _This_ ,” I traced a loose crescent around a rocky formation on the diagram.  “Is _that_.”

 

“No dude,” Kyle said, grabbing my finger and readjusting it from where I’d been pointing.  “That is _that._ See?  We’re on, like, the other side of it.”

 

“But it makes a skull.  See the skull?”

 

“No way!  It makes a rabbit.  See? These two rocks are the ears.”

 

“Those are eye sockets!”

 

“My ass!”

 

Tweek, who was seemingly just content to be along for the ride, listed away to idly jab at a clump of moss with a stick.  

 

“Look, whatever.  If we keep heading west, eventually we’ll hit the train tracks.  I can direct us from there.”

 

Breaking from the huddle, we all joined the lovebirds on the picnic blanket, making quick work of the spread Butters had packed for us.  Kyle popped off his boots and massaged his tired feet while Kenny leveraged his leg up on a jagged rock, stretching like a ballerina about to do some _plies_.

 

Once everyone was decently rested, we packed up the remnants of the picnic and reassembled ourselves.  Kyle took point, since he (allegedly) knew where the fuck we were going, and everyone else followed single file behind him.  Tweek and me formed the rear.

 

Once Kenny’s scrawny orange butt rounded a bend in the thicket in front of us, Tweek lifted himself up on his tiptoes and pressed his lips against my cheek.

 

“What was _that_ for?”

 

He grinned.  “I need a reason?”

 

“No,” I flushed slightly, burying my nose back into my map.  “Guess not.”

 

After ten or so minutes of steady walking we emerged on a sort of clearing overrun with thicket and brambles.  At the center was the craggy dome of a massive boulder, probably left here by glaciers millions of years ago.

 

“I think this is it.”

 

As I squinted at the faded print, Kenny scampered up one of the _eye sockets_ to get a better look.  

 

“You see anything Ken?”

 

“Yeah.  Lots of trees and rocks and shit.”

 

“That’s helpful.  Thank you.”

 

Kenny leaned his arm out over the precipice, flipping me off from above.

 

“FOUND IT!!”

 

I barrel rolled out of the way just in time for Kenny to touch down near where I’d been resting against the trunk of a tree.  “It’s up ahead a bit. Big clearing between the ears - can’t miss it. And Kyle was right - it’s a bunny. There are buck teeth carved on a rock muzzle.”  

 

I avoided Kyle’s shit-eating grin as I neatly folded the map and slipped it back into my satchel.  Our boots crunched through the frozen pine boughs carpeting the ground as magpies rioted anxiously overhead.

 

“Soooh…,” came a nudge at my shoulder.  “What kind of weed is it?”

 

“Dunno,” I slipped my hand around Tweek’s slender waist, holding him close as we picked our way through the underbrush.  “Stan’s Uncle Jimbo usually grows indica-dominant strains. It’s the shit I give you when you’re spazzing out and need to calm down.”

 

“Ooh, fun!”

 

Tweek was in a mood.  Had been since our little pep talk.  He had become very… um… _affectionate_ as of late.

 

Which wasn’t a bad thing.

 

“Hey Craig?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I’ve been wondering something.”

 

“What?”

 

Lips leaned in, pressing to my ear.  “I’ve been wondering how my boyfriend manages to squeeze that big juicy ass of his into those jeans.”

 

I cluster-swatted him off to his peals of childish giggling.  Once he was out of my radius for some time and felt safe that I wouldn’t smack him again, Tweek reappeared by my side.  Wasting no time, he hooked his arm into mine.

 

Though I considered pushing him off, I didn’t.  There was limited opportunity for PDA at school, and our usual alone time consisted of quick, meticulously arranged hugs in the boys’ bathroom, sleepovers at our respective houses, and forays into the woods.  It made me long for our future studio apartment in Seattle. Plaid shirts, hipster beards, and endless stretches of rainy weather just perfect for Ray Bradbury novels and cuddling on the couch.

 

“Is, uuh…”  I fumbled for conversation.  “Did your dad ever hear back about that job offer?”

 

“Nope.  And it’s been three weeks.”

 

“So… we’re probably in the clear then?”

 

Tweek grinned.  “Wow. You were _really_ stressing that.  Weren’t you?”

 

“No.  Just… following up.”

 

“Mm-hm.”

 

There was mischief in those darkly-shadowed eyes.  I felt a rock sinking into my stomach.

 

Sure enough, just as soon as Kenny’s orange parka disappeared beyond a thicket of green fronds up ahead, I was rounded on.  Tweek’s fingers burrowed into my vest collar and I was pivoted around, Judo-pinned against the closest tree.

 

“H-hey!”  I squeaked.  

 

His knee was wedged up between my legs, I was being held aloft by my vest collar, and we were suddenly kissing that rough, angry-looking kiss endemic to 14-year-old boys wandering the woods in search of the devil’s astro turf.  

 

_Why do I like him so much,_ I thought to myself, flushing red as my hands reflexively banded around his waist.   _I mean… besides all the obvious reasons, that is._

 

He’s twitchy and weird.  He looks as if he hasn’t eaten or slept in weeks.  He skips showers every other day and cocoons himself in my bed sheets on chilly nights.  

 

Then again, we like the same movies, play the same games, read the same books, and the slightest touch from his long spidery fingers sends a shiver racing up my spine.  A good shiver. A welcome shiver.

 

I allowed my wrists to be pinned to the tree’s jagged bark as our tongues vied for dominance.

 

_You know he planned this, right?_ came an indignant voice from inside my head.   _He and those other blondes.  They’re schemers. In cahoots._ I blinked.  Do people still say ‘cahoots’?  Who still says ‘cahoots’?

 

I suddenly became aware that his kisses were traveling south.  I blinked as one cleared my collar bone. _W-wh?_

 

Tweek’s knees were in the fallen leaves.  I looked down at him, blinking, mouth agape.

 

“You’re not.”

 

A mischievous grin.  “I am.”

 

_“The guys!”_ I hissed.  

 

My belt buckle was being fiddled with.  “Kenny and Butters have been well compensated to run interference for me.”

 

A million panicky thoughts raced through my mind.  Hikers. How many days of usage my underwear had seen.  How many floral print scarves Butters purchased with all his hush money.

 

Belt. Button.  Zipper. Cool air touching where cool air doesn’t usually touch.  My fingernails digging into soft bark. His hands sneaking up beneath the hem of my shirt.

 

Before I could protest further, it started.  At first it felt strange. Then okay. Then great.  Then _amazing_.  

 

I focused on a bramble bush across the way.  One woodchuck chased another woodchuck through a thicket, over a knotted root and out of sight.  Cautiously, as though of its own volition, my trembling hand reached out, finding his nest of blonde hair and digging in.

 

_He’s good at this._  Granted, this was my first blowjob ever and I therefore had nothing to compare it to.  But there was no way in hell Tweek wasn’t _super_ good at this.

 

My cheeks flushed a darker shade of scarlet.  Heated breath plumed before me in the cool morning air, turning to little white puffs of clouds.  I could hear my lungs expand and contract rhythmically, could feel the hammer of my heart thundering against my ribcage.

 

Was I being too rough?  Could he breathe? He hasn’t come up for air.  Is it possible to suffocate doing… doing _that?_ What would I tell his parents if he died?  How does one even start that conversation?

 

But he seemed to be doing fine.  He was certainly enthusiastic, I’ll give him that.

 

Meanwhile, I’m vaguely aware of other tertiary sensations happening to my body.  An ant crawling up my leg. The chafe of one expanse of sweaty sock wedged down between my first and second toe.  The top of my half-exposed butt being scraped raw against an old oak.

 

I look down.  Bad idea. Murky green eyes staring up at me.  Now it’s starting. In some deep, interior part of me.  Rumbling. Buzzing to life.

 

His fingers played with my chest beneath my shirt.  Head lolling back, the canopy wobbled above me as my vision went in and out of focus.  

 

_Should I warn hi-_  Whoops.  Nevermind.  Too late.

 

My body tensed up.  Fingernails dug into tree bark as my other hand gripped the back of his head.  An immense rush of relief, then an emptying. If my knees hadn’t been locked, they might have buckled.  

 

“I… _ugf_ …”  I heaved, palming the sweat from my face.  “That was… _that was…_ ”

 

An audible _Pop!_ and suddenly we were no longer connected.   Tweek stood up, swatting the dirt and wet leaves from his knees.  He looked at me, and I thought for a moment that he was leaning in for a kiss.  But was wrong. I was so, SO wrong.

 

“ _Craig_ ,” came a gravelly, raspy voice.

 

Oh god.  Oh god _ohgodohgod_ … NO.  

 

I twisted my face away from him, squealing behind closed lips.

 

“ _Craig_ ,” comes the wet-mouthed zombie croak again, this time perilously close to the side of my face.  “I’m your sexy little zombie. Kiss me. _Kiss me, Craig!_ ”

 

I squealed out loud, eyes wrenching shut as I threw my entire weight against his chest.  But Tweek is surprisingly wirey. My post-orgasm noodle arms barely budged him. He pinned me to the tree once again.  I was helpless.

 

“NO!”

 

“ _Craig… kiss me on the mouth with lots of tongue, Craig!!_ ”

 

“OH MY GOD GET OFF ME YOU ARE **SO** GROSS!!”

 

“ _Craig… don’t say that Craig... zombies have feelings Craig!!_ ”

 

“NO THEY DON’T!”

 

“Hey guys,” came a voice from the treeline a respectful distance off.  “Are you done? We found the jazz cabbage while you two were… um…”

 

“Keep your fucking mouth shut, McCormick!” I shouted in the direction of the voice’s echo.

 

“‘Kay!  Waiting on you yahoos though!”

 

I seized the opportunity to slip out of Tweek’s clutches, elbowing him sharply in the ribs as I fixed myself, gathered up my backpack and set off at a brisk clip.  Tweek chuckled and followed suit, saddling up beside me, matching my frantic pace with long strides from his skinny legs.

 

I thought that would be the end of it.  But again, I was wrong.

 

Tweek leaned in.  Suddenly there came the loudest, most theatrical gulp I’d ever heard in my life.  Right against my ear canal.


End file.
